


If You Can't Stand The Heat

by destieluk



Series: The Wrap-Around Porch Verse. [12]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Sex, Bottom Benny, Kitchen table sex, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Smut, Top Cas, mild breathplay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-02
Updated: 2015-11-02
Packaged: 2018-04-29 14:32:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 542
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5131106
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/destieluk/pseuds/destieluk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kitchen based smut. Who needs plot?</p>
            </blockquote>





	If You Can't Stand The Heat

Castiel gasps for breath, face and chest flushed red and heaving as he thrusts himself himself into the tight heat of Benny’s body. The vampire is bare, laid out across the kitchen table, one hand curled round the edge, fingernails gouging into the soft pine, the other grabbing the base of his rigid cock as he struggles to keep up with Cas’ frantic pace. His ankles are hooked over Cas’ shoulder as the angel holds him round the waist, pulling the thicker body towards his own. Cas’ quiet huffs are at odds with the jack rabbit motion of his hips, tiny figure of eights and quick, sharp jabs as he tries to nail Benny’s prostate as often as he can.

Apart from the tight grip on his own cock, Benny is limp, head lolling, eyes rolling with pleasure, lips slack as his helpless moans get louder and louder. He’s babbling, unaware, completely overwhelmed when he feels a firm hand cup his chin and bring him back into the room.

Barely slowing his frenetic motion, Cas catches Benny’s gaze with his own. Once he’s sure he has the vampire’s attention, he shifts his grip, long fingers curling round Benny’s neck, palm snug against the bulge of his adam’s apple. Benny’s moans turn to whines as Cas seems to pull him closer, shifts so he’s deeper than should be possible, and slowly increases the pressure on his throat. Tears blur Benny’s eyes as his chest heaves, Cas’ grunts and the obscene slap of skin seeming to grow louder as his own moans are reduced to whimpers by the restriction. Cas squeezes gently, keeping his control rigid, even as the stutter of his hips betrays him.

Benny feels the heat curl deep within him. The fish hook of pleasure reeling him closer and closer to the edge. He struggles to focus, knowing that Cas is still watching him intently. He concentrates on the blue of the angel’s eyes, and Cas, still pounding into him relentlessly, leans forward.

‘Benny,’ he says, his voice wrecked, ‘Come.’

Like a dog out of a trap, Benny surges up, fucking into the tunnel of his own hand. He comes hard, shooting into the space between their bodies, spasming around Cas, who sucks in a shocked breath. He’s still trembling through the aftershocks when Cas swiftly pulls out of him and strips his own cock two or three times before spending over Benny’s chest and stomach. Shuddering, he drops his forehead onto Benny’s shoulder and rests there. 

After a few moments he calms and raises his head to look around at the mess surrounding them. The fridge door is still partly open, light flickering on and off, from where he’d been looking in it before Benny had pushed him up against the shelves. A carton of milk, upended and dripping onto the floor from where he’d hip checked the sideboard as he’d grappled Benny on to the table and the remains of a box of eggs oozing sadly into a pile of hurriedly discarded clothing under the chair.

Benny huffs a quiet laugh as he hoists himself up onto his elbows to survey the damage

‘I guess we’re ordering takeout’, he smiles, pressing a kiss to the tip of Cas’ nose.


End file.
